


To Believe

by orphan_account



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-09-27
Updated: 2006-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tennis, and how three years of it changed the life of Oishi Syuichiroh forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Believe

Oishi didn't believe in true love.

There was something inherently ridiculous to him about the entire notion. To feel as if one was grasping his heart in their delicate hands; to feel the ache of said person dropping his heart and stomping on it continuously, should they get into a fight. Then, to fall to his knees, like a heavy panel of glass falling a thousand feet from the sky, just to shatter into a million pieces. Pieces, that could just as easily be mended back into a single panel with one, soulful kiss.

Yes. That's what his literature book said.

He was young. Young and curious, not unlike other boys he knew. He checked out a few girls, and yet never experienced the magnetic sensation of two souls lacing fingers, or whatever. Maybe he wasn't doing it right. Or maybe the feeling just didn't exist.

But it is also said that love is a spontaneous thing that can take on any form, and appear at whim. It wasn't meant to be controlled, nor was it meant to have rhyme or reason. To Oishi, things without reason couldn't possibly be good. Forfeiting one's heart without reason, for example, was much too frightening a thought. What if one were to surrender their heart to him, only to find that his hold was too weak? And any false move he made would cause that organ to slip from his fingers and shatter like glass.

Then again, hearts couldn't shatter. Hearts weren't much of anything, and yet they were everything. A heart was a vital organ that pumped blood throughout the body to keep it alive. He wasn't sure how two hearts could connect, or what the metaphor was meant to convey. Would a heart really shatter and cease to pump blood, if a love as strong as the universe was reduced to nothing? Why did so many of the loveless continue to live, then?

The notion of being meant for someone was the one that bothered him the most. To him, it was merely holding someone back with one's own selfish desires. A love so all consuming only served to suffocate the freedom of two people. He hoped no one would ever feel the need to become a slave to him. He couldn't figure out what compelled one to feel so drawn to another person. Oishi was perfectly content to take his life in his own steps. He wasn't holding anyone back by being independent, and, in turn, he wasn't being held back.

He was simply Oishi Syuichiroh, his own person.

\---

Straight A's and many an approving gesture from his educators made his parents glow with pride. So much so, they gave him the option of participating in after school activities once he began attending Seishun Gakuen. He couldn't refuse.

For years, Oishi had been a lover of sports. Swimming, volleyball, bowling; you name it, he loved it. He loved being active and getting his body going. In the evenings, when all homework was done and checked thoroughly three times over, he'd grab a basketball and headed out to the courts. The basketball soon became a soccer ball. The soccer ball then became an American football. The American football a hockey stick. The hockey stick a ping pong paddle.

Then, the ping pong paddle became a tennis racket.

He'd practice a few drills at the street courts, then actually went as far as to challenge some of the older players once he could get the ball over the net. Rather, he just wanted a friendly exchange, which became a match that drove him into the ground.

Perhaps tennis wasn't his thing, either. He was ready to forfeit from it entirely, until the side of an ice cold bottle of water hung over his eyes. He looked up, and met the most solid pair of hazel eyes he had ever seen, with the most intimidating frown to match. Oishi's fingers trembled on their way to the bottle, and the boy in front of him pressed it into his palm.

"You're not bad," the boy said, expression staid, cool, collected; mind boggling. Oishi couldn't tear his eyes away from this boy. He felt like he'd be doing something out of line if he did.

"T-thank you," Oishi croaks, with a combination of his parched throat and overall tensity. The vibes the frowning, bespeckled boy in front of him threw off weren't bad, per se, but Oishi knew he would never want to get on this person's bad side.

He took a long swig of the water, only realizing he'd finally been able to tear his eyes away after so long. Once he had the bottle down and capped, he noticed the other boy was at the court with a racket in hand. He beckoned Oishi over with one glare, and their game began.

Oishi lost, six games to one.

"What is your name?" asked his opponent, who was earlier revealed as 'Tezuka' by one of the bystanders. Oishi couldn't believe this... this monster still had any interest in him after losing to him so miserably. Once he'd managed to take a game, Tezuka placed his racket into his left hand and devastated him in the end. Oishi felt hollow, humiliated, and completely worthless.

Tezuka waited for Oishi to say something, and Oishi just didn't. He drifted away into the safe asylum of his own mind and beat himself up internally. He waited for this chance his entire life. To be out in the sun; to be playing with boys his own age; to make something useful at himself; to be more than just the quiet kid in the back of the class who got all A's and had no friends. He figured he just wasn't cut out for the fun or the thrill of anything, if his seniors continued to clobber him into the dust. How could he possibly be so useless?

"I meant what I said," Tezuka said quietly. He rested a very careful hand on Oishi's shoulder, but his expression still refused to waver. Where he lacked in facial passion he more than made up for in tennis.

Oishi took this gesture as one of genuine desire and trust. There was something Tezuka saw in him; he didn't know what. How could he? He could only see a boundless amount of holes in his game. They were so abundant, recalling the former game, along with every other game of every other sport he'd tried out. He could only see the holes, but what could Tezuka see?

"Excuse me, I don't believe... what I mean is... I'm... "

Tezuka blinked, and Oishi swore he could see the hint of an angry ember flickering in those stone cold eyes. The dark-haired boy swallowed, and bowed before this tennis expert.

"I apologize," Oishi quivered, and the firm hand slid away, as did Tezuka's eyes.

His gaze shot toward the sky instead.

"This happens often," Tezuka said, clenching his fists. "I guess another dream has been shattered on the court today."

Oishi looked at Tezuka incredulously, not knowing what to make of that. It wasn't as if he aspired to become a future star at Wimbledon or anything. He merely desired to find something he was good at; something he could genuinely enjoy on the side of his studies. Most of his life felt empty and surreal, as if he lived outside of this world and controlled his mind and body with a remote. It was an odd feeling Oishi couldn't describe, like he was born with half of himself missing, in a way, but that was impossible.

Oishi had no room to be selfish. He was gifted with two conservative, loving parents and their approval. He was gifted with the intelligence to fly through grade school. He was gifted with manners that earned the respect of his elders. Overall, he was completely spoiled; his life was perfect as it was.

He had one dream, and that was to be a person worthy of respect. Selfishness was forbidden in his family.

Which was why... why Oishi had to accept this gift. His mother and father were only too glad to offer him an opportunity to be active and get out more often. How could he turn down their precious gift, just because he had no talent?

Just then, he snapped from his trance, to find Tezuka many paces ahead of him. Oishi dashed toward him and didn't stop until he'd blocked Tezuka's path. He crouched down and started panting, but his eyes roared with more passion than he thought he was capable of. Whatever protest Tezuka had fell dead upon his lips.

"Oi... " he took a strained breath, "Oishi. Oishi Syuichiroh."

Blink.

"Pardon?"

"My name is Oishi Syuichiroh. And... if I may be so bold as to ask... please?"

Tezuka didn't know what to say. A simple 'please' was much too vague. He waited for the other boy to regain his breath entirely, and then he clarified.

"Please, Tezuka-kun. Allow me to train with you."

\---

For the first time in his life, Oishi knew what it meant to have a friend.

He had started attending Seishun Gakuen with Tezuka, and they joined the tennis club together. Like they'd practiced on the street courts, they went through heavy drills of racket swings and sit ups. It was essential to build stamina and agility before taking to the court. Tezuka commented on Oishi's greatest advantage; he had the ability to work around his opponent's play. It was how he seized that single game during their first match together. Oishi's mind was sharp and analytic. Despite that, though, taking five games to figure out his opponent's game was suicidal. Oishi would need time to observe his opponents without having to worry about hitting the ball every single time it flew over the net.

Tezuka suggested he try doubles as a solution to this flaw, and, albeit dubious, Oishi took him up on that without argument. It did make perfect sense. As Oishi took a few moments to observe his opponents on the side, someone could cover for him so he wouldn't have to worry about every single ball. Still, he had no clue how well he could work with another person; he was used to doing things on his own. Plus, he thought it'd be rather selfish to ask another person to be a pawn in his own game. But he supposed he couldn't argue if anyone was willing to play doubles with him.

He'd give it a try. He couldn't possibly be any worse in doubles than he was in singles.

\---

It took Oishi just shy of two months to convince his senpai-tachi that he was worth more than just another petty ball boy.

Practice sessions with them were a disaster. Everything he feared and more.

He tried synchronizing with his senpai, as the instruction book suggested. He also tried to bear his senpai's word in mind; to follow in suit. Oishi, however, was not a follower. He was overwhelmed with the desire to control the game; it's what he practiced doubles for in the first place. But he was forced to play at the net, and often forgot there was somebody behind him. He was harshly reprimanded for it every day.

Tezuka told him never to give up, time and time again. So he just kept going. He kept working at it. He put all his heart into his game, and somehow ended up on the short end of the stick every time. None of them would let him lead, which threw him off of his real game completely. It was awful; he just didn't know what to do with himself.

The following morning, he looked over his doubles instruction manual carefully all over again, unbeknownst to the shrill flash of red that would soon ram into his shoulder.

\---

Doubles-kun?

Of all the ridiculous...

And yet Oishi had never blushed harder in his life.

The boy that had slammed into him on his way to school earlier introduced himself today as Kikumaru Eiji. He was new to the tennis club, and people from their year took an instant liking to him. It was extraordinary. His voice seemed to light up the entire court, and first years left and right were awed and inspired by every little thing that came out of his mouth. It was as if the aura that poured from Kikumaru's spirit was a magnetic one. Even his senpai-tachi found it difficult to yell at the newcomer when he started slacking. How could one possibly get a word in with someone who was THAT happy? It seemed too good to be true.

Yamato-buchou instructed Oishi to give their newest member a tour of the club house, so he summoned the boy over shyly. Kikumaru was only too happy to be in the presence of someone he already (barely) knew.

\---

And just like that, he and Kikumaru were friends.

He never really spent time with anyone who just talked, and talked, and talked, but there was something oddly refreshing about it. Kikumaru spoke of dreams, and strength, and life as if it were all some big game that everybody wins, and Oishi listened. For someone who sounded and acted so silly, Kikumaru was whimsical, astute, optimistic, and just being around him put Oishi in a good mood. And that was just the first day.

Too soon did Oishi start taking that happy air his new friend exuded for granted, because he discovered less pleasant dimensions of Kikumaru, and they had gotten into their first fight not long after they met. Apparently there were rumors being spread about Oishi's sudden interest in doubles, and those rumors put a bad taste in Eiji's mouth. Oishi had no idea what this boy could possibly be thinking. Kikumaru didn't know a damn thing about him, and yet was quick to make stupid assumptions, and tell him how to handle himself. It was so stupid. Oishi wanted to know what it was lately with strangers telling him how he needed to be. This all started when he began playing tennis, and he had half a mind to quit the club altogether, until the delighted faces of his parents, and the determined face of Tezuka Kunimitsu haunted his mind.

They were always haunting his mind, and he had no clue how to escape them.

What happened to his independence? He spent his entire life more than capable of treading the road on his own. He didn't need his hand held through anything; he certainly didn't need to be taking any crap from his seniors. He had the utmost amount of respect for them, given their age, but Oishi couldn't understand. What would be so wrong with letting him lead, just once? Just to see if that would improve things?

Of course, he never had the nerve to ask, which was entirely Kikumaru's point when he told Oishi "If you have something to say, just say it." He was surprised by how insightful the exuberant redhead was, and even a little weirded out by it. After all, they were only strangers.

\---

One day, their tension had finally burst into a wall of fire so intense that not even Yamato-buchou dared to step in.

No one in the entire world had ever gotten such a rise out of Oishi Syuichiroh; no one had ever infuriated him this much. Who exactly did Kikumaru think he was? Telling Oishi how he needed to be; how lame he was for moping and questioning his skills. Right now, Kikumaru was a loud, boisterous, presumptuous, know-it-all and needed to shut up. The more he spoke, the more Oishi's nerves danced on the surface of a kettle that was ready to blow at any time. He'd show him. He'd show them all. Oishi would not be dragged down by petty assumptions. He did nothing to deserve such disrespect. He merely followed in Tezuka's stride, and happened to develop a bit of talent along the way.

Oishi unleashed that talent in leaps and bounds against Kikumaru. The young acrobat thought he could confuse his opponent, but Oishi didn't take long to figure out his game at all. It was difficult to keep up with the other boy, but Oishi held his own, better than he ever had. He showed the club a game of tennis he didn't even know he was capable of.

They were equally matched for the most part, but Oishi managed to worm his way to the top by the ninth game. In the end, their wall of fire cooled to a subtle wisp of smoke. Kikumaru's mouth and body were both spent.

Oishi couldn't have been happier, because from that point on, he loved tennis.

\---

"Will you be my doubles partner?"

\---

Admittedly, Oishi didn't know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to be partners with Kikumaru Eiji.

Oishi was taught that it was never good to act on impulse. Bad results always came out of instantaneous decisions. Oishi, for one, never liked to mess things up. Not for himself, and especially not for others. How many times had Kikumaru told him that doubles wasn't his thing? Then, out of the blue, Kikumaru asks, as if it were something he had pursued his entire life. He supposed that was just in the other boy's nature, to be spontaneous and jump at the opportunity to try new things.

Oishi couldn't find the words to say.

As soon as their game ended, it was on his mind, how Kikumaru had drawn so much potential out of him on the opposite side of the court. But just how much would the acrobat pull out on the same side? And he was a great receiver. His reflexes were excellent, and his side step was quick, agile, and balanced. He wasn't afraid to dive for the ball, either. It was a style of play that suited Oishi perfectly. It would buy him enough time to get a handle on the opposing side's game, so they knew just how to claim victory.

It was almost too perfect to be true, and Kikumaru ended up being the one to make the request; he did it in such a poignant way that told Oishi that doubles was exactly what Kikumaru wanted. There was no room for doubt left.

Impulsive or not, Oishi couldn't help but comply with the request.

\---

Eiji's enthusiasm was like a drug; so addictive, it shouldn't be legal.

Whenever he could, Oishi allowed himself to feed off of this atmosphere Eiji emitted in waves. The foreign feeling of comfort and natural joy had Oishi drawn to his new doubles partner, like a moth to a flame. Unless they engaged in the occasional spat, Oishi's lips were almost always curled into a smile in Eiji's presence. Days since they had become friends turned into weeks, months, and before he knew it, the year was almost over.

The days Yamato-buchou allowed them to practice their doubles were few and far in between, but they were the happiest days Oishi ever recalled having in his first year. Every time they had a chance to prove themselves, they went all out. None of their senpai-tachi could match their doubles work, and even the regulars had a real trial against them. Their favorite play was having Eiji hop across the court, and once Oishi's presence was completely forgotten, he came up from behind and shocked their opponents. Not only was he sneaky, observant, and keen on his surroundings, he was dead accurate. Most of all, he was completely comfortable with Eiji by his side. They exchanged high fives after each point they scored; what's more, they exchanged smiles, words of encouragement, and overall support. They would surely turn into something other teams would fear one day.

The future captain entrusted to Seigaku was recommended Oishi and Kikumaru by Yamato-buchou with pride, and even Tezuka agreed, much to everyone's surprise.

\---

On their way home after their final practice of the year, Oishi had to comment, "I didn't know you paid any attention to Eiji and I."

"Your combination is impressive and improving rapidly," Tezuka said simply, and kept moving. Without turning to face Oishi, he added as an afterthought, "I couldn't help but notice how much potential he has drawn from you throughout the year."

Then he turned around, smiling about as big as he ever smiled, with the setting sun melting into him. This was just like the time he'd told Oishi of his plans to carry Seigaku to the Nationals.

Oishi knew from that point that Eiji was their key to making that dream come true. If they could perfect their doubles combination in the span of two years at the most, they would be unbeatable. Oishi had never been so certain about anything in his life, but he knew this would work. He just knew.

T B C


End file.
